


blood speaks louder

by Leyenn



Series: Kinktober 2020 [11]
Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Aftercare, Alien Rituals, Aliens Made Them Do It, Bathroom Sex, Bloodplay, Blow Jobs, Cock Rings, Come Swallowing, Consensual BDSM relationship, Cutting, Daniel Whump Reinvented for 2020, Daniel just needs to be loved and also hurt a little bit, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Don't Piss Off Your Local Napoleonic Powermonger, Don't Take Alien Drugs And Do A Scene Kids, Drug Use, Established Relationship, Gags, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Knifeplay, Multi, OT3, Overstimulation, Painplay, Polyamory, Polyandry, Safeword Use, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Subspace, Teal'c loves his Tau'ri in a strictly platonic way, Team Fluid Bonding, Their Kink Is Not Teal'c's Kink And That's Okay, Threesome, Threesome – F/M/M, Wounds, Writing on the Body, and is sort of the fourth member of the threesome, bdsm relationship, but also he is happy to watch and help out, fluid bonding, or in this case hurt quite a lot, teal'c ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:54:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyenn/pseuds/Leyenn
Summary: SG-1 participate in an alien ritual involving mind-altering drugs and knives.Prompt: bloodplay.
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Series: Kinktober 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911157
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	blood speaks louder

Someone convinces Janet to put him straight in a private room even before they do triage; given the sensitivity of the situation and the fact that it's Jack hovering at his side, he suspects Sam. The warmth of gratitude is not exactly helpful to his current state, but then there's nothing much that would be, so he just tries to make the best of it.

  


* * *

  


_The ceremonial brew tastes like cinnamon and iron, like thick cream - like the color red, somehow. For a few seconds everything seems just the same, and he starts to wonder if it's not brewed for an Earth metabolism, or there's something else these people have in their diet that makes it work…_

_"Daniel?" Sam's voice is gentle, quiet. She's very close but she sounds closer: he can see her sitting a few feet away, but he can hear her right in his ear. The fire crackling is incredibly loud, suddenly, and the light sparkles in his eyes._

_"I think it's working," he says, enunciating very carefully. His own voice sounds a little dulled in comparison to the brightness of sound everywhere else. "I think… no, it's definitely working…"_

_Jack takes his arm - just lightly, a hand around his bicep, and the touch is electric. He hums in the back of his throat – he doesn't exactly mean to, but at least it's a shorthand that will tip them off immediately as to what_ working _actually means._

_"Ah," Jack says. It's as if his voice is right inside Daniel's head._

  


* * *

  


Just sliding his jacket off his shoulders makes him have to swallow down a hiss – it's not pain, emphatically not pain, or at least not bad pain, but that's most of the problem. Pain he can show on duty without thinking about it, or at least just not show it at all if it's not hit his threshold. Usually.

He really hopes the last of the drugs are actually going to wear off soon, or there are going to be some uncomfortable conversations all round.

Jack grabs a sleeve of the jacket as he goes to put it down. Not touching, and Daniel feels a burst of affection for that even though he could happily take Jack's touch right now. More than happily, which is something of the problem.

"If I help, will it make it worse?"

"Probably." He smiles ruefully. "But someone's going to need to, and I'd rather you than whoever Janet brings with her."

Jack winces at the idea. "Yeah, there is that." For a few seconds he gets that considering look on his face, then he takes a step back. "All right. Boots first. Lean up against the bed."

At least he's still got the self-control not to react – outwardly, at least – to the sight of Jack crouching in front of him on one knee, using one thigh as a platform for deft fingers to unlace and remove each boot in turn. The floor is a shock of cold under his bare feet, but it's bearable and even a little pleasant against the slashes of heat elsewhere on his skin.

Jack goes for his belt next, but Daniel takes a deep breath and stops his hands before the buckle's open. He moves them up an inch, wordlessly, curling Jack's fingers under the hem of his tank. 

"That's gonna be the worst," Jack says, almost a murmur and almost apologetic.

"I know. That's why I'd rather do it before Janet gets here."

Jack nods, at that. "Sure." The way he pauses is almost like a Tok'ra taking over, far more telegraphed than he usually would be, but Daniel appreciates the moment. "Deep breath for me," Jack says, definitely a murmur now, low enough to be barely heard. "Let me get it, just lift your arms up. Make a noise if you have to," he adds, and tugs the shirt up.

Daniel bites his cheek, and that's just about enough to keep the noise he does make to a quiet moan. Jack peels the fabric carefully down his forearms one at a time, avoiding as much skin as possible, tosses it on top of his discarded jacket and goes for the bandages around his upper chest. 

"These are gonna have to come off."

Oh, this is bad. "I know." 

"Keep still, then." Jack's gentle, unwrapping him as carefully as Sam wrapped him up a few hours ago, and it's not exactly easy but it's bearable - until the last layer is coming off and cool air hits the first place where his skin is cut, and he grabs at Jack's arm with a sharp gasp.

At least Jack doesn't stop. Daniel's close to trembling when he's done, but he's done. 

"Sorry," he gets out, roughly, trying to unclamp his fingers. The cuts are pulsing, singing at him for attention, even the ones still covered, as if they're all somehow connected in one giant net of raw sensation across his skin and it's hooked into Jack's touch. He's managed to have them wrapped up for hours now, it really seems like it shouldn't still be this intense.

"S'all good." Jack strokes his wrist. "Let's get your pants off, at least."

"So romantic," he teases, a little wrung out again already. Jack snorts.

"Hey, I'm still better than Fraiser or one of her lackeys."

He smiles, a little, grateful. "You are." At least Jack understands the feelings he's trying to process – all of the feelings – and he knows where all the cuts are. He made them, after all.

  


* * *

  


_The first glide of the ceremonial blade makes him so incredibly glad it's Jack who has to do this, and that they were practically ordered to do it in private. The tent they're staying in isn't soundproof by any means, but at least it's comfortable – opulent, even, with its bright silks and thick pressed-reed mats – and enclosed, so no one but the rest of his team will see._

_He's glad, because there's no way to do this without his being naked, and he's pretty sure getting immediately hard the way he is, is not the reaction he's supposed to be having to being marked the Speaker for the Tau'ri. The people of PX2-696 are cultured and currently peaceful, but they also have very sharp less-than-ceremonial blades and the demonstrable skills to use them; an unsettling thing to think about pissing off by extending a body part he's pretty damn fond of, involuntarily or not._

_They also have access to significant deposits of trinium that Earth could use, and after three weeks they're on the cusp of what should be an iron-clad mining treaty. It would be beyond awkward to try and explain to the General how he fucked that up because he likes it too much when Jack cuts him._

_It hadn't sounded too difficult, when they went over it. Ten cuts, nowhere that Jack doesn't feel confident he can do it safely, to draw out his blood and write the binding words across his skin. Words across his chest to show their trust in him and his place among them; down his limbs to show the combined strength he represents; across his back and buttocks to tell of the responsibility they've placed on him._

_It's a lot, but he's been confident until now that he could handle it. Certainly better than most, given that even if these people were willing to negotiate with anyone but SG-1, the pool of other people fluent in an ancient Sumerian dialect with the right security clearance and diplomatic skills is pretty slim._

_He's spent weeks around the native Speaker, an attractive heavy-set woman with a bold smile and bolder voice, openly displaying the healed-over scars of however many treaties, so he knows where each one will go. Jack's confident he can do it all without scarring, has practiced with the slender trinium blade all week to get the right balance and pressure. Daniel trusts him implicitly, and would trust him with things far more extreme than this if he had to._

_Now he thinks he might have miscalculated. From what he's been hearing he'd expected the ritual brew – the closest translation had been_ peyote _, though Daniel's had peyote before and this is not like that, at all – would make things dreamlike, soften the sensations, but instead everything feels so sharp –_

_"Oh god…" It's all he can do not to shudder as the sting of the cut starts to set in, blood already welling up. The cut is long and deeper than it would be if they were just playing, right across the muscle of his left pectoral, a bright hot line of feeling. He hadn't been naïve enough to expect he wouldn't be incredibly turned on, but…_

_"Oh, this is gonna be a problem," he mutters, not sure if he's warning or apologising or just resigning himself to it._

_Sam looks at him with a soft frown. "You okay?"_

_He swallows, his mouth gone dry. "That was… a bit more intense than I expected. Whatever's in that brew is not messing around."_

_Jack looks up at him, already cleaning the blade quickly with the first of a pile of alcohol wipes tipped out onto the floor beside him. "You just feel how you feel," he says, a clear permission. "Report's gonna say you were drugged to high heaven, whatever happens. No way anyone's giving details of what goes on in here."_

_"Yeah, okay." He knows it doesn't really matter, but he can't help a rueful look to his left. "Sorry, Teal'c." He really is, he's just not going to be able to help himself._

_"There is nothing to apologise for, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c's sincere enough to even give him the hint of a smile. "Your pleasure is preferable to any alternative."_

_"Teal'c's right," Sam says. "If we have to do this, it's better that you enjoy it than hate it, right?"_

_"Don't try and argue her logic," Jack says, before Daniel can even think of how to answer. "You're not at full capacity right now, and she's got a helluva point." He puts the knife down and picks up the writing brush, and Daniel does shudder at just the sight of that. "Breathe for me," he says, that calm dominant tone, and as Daniel draws a breath in, Jack makes one long sweep of the brush along the oozing length of the cut._

_He grabs for someone, something, anything, gets Sam's hand and holds on tight. "Fuck…" comes out of his mouth, unbidden. He wishes they'd somehow been able to sneak some restraints into someone's pack. He's not sure how he's going to hang on through nearly a dozen of these otherwise._

_Sam pries his hand from hers and wraps it around his wrist instead, and hard. He knows she feels him relax into it when she says, though she doesn't really need to make it a question; "Do you want us to hold you down?"_

_He's not ashamed that he whimpers with relief. "Would you?"_

_She gives him that easy, comfortable smile. "I'll show Teal'c what to do, okay? Put your arms up and he can hold you. That's probably stronger than cuffs anyway," and he has to laugh. She's not wrong._

_Sam keeps that tight grip on his wrist, grounding him, even while she directs Teal'c into position behind him and guides him to lie back further with the other hand, pressing on his shoulder. He goes down without resisting and finds his head on one of the ornate pillows scattered around, now tucked into Teal'c's lap. Teal'c's legs are neatly crossed, one knee rising either side of him; it's a strangely comforting position to be in._

_"Put your arms up," Sam repeats, does it for him with the grip she's still got on his wrist. He follows suit with the other arm and lets her position him with his arms bent, each hand around the opposite elbow, resting on the rock-solid foundation of Teal'c's thighs. Teal'c leans forward over him, massive forearms against his biceps and strong hands on his shoulders with enough weight that Sam's right, even cuffed to a bed he wouldn't feel this secure._

_He's closed his eyes, he realises, when Sam's fingers brush his cheek. "Better?"_

_He breaths in, and out. "Yeah." It's so much better. Between this and Jack's steadying hand on his ribs, he feels like he can at least stay on the ground. "Thank you," he adds, nearly says_ Sam _and then isn't sure. "T…"_

_"It is my pleasure, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c's definitely smiling at him now, whether it's outward or not. "I believe you should focus on O'Neill now."_

_"Yep." Jack's shifted position a little with him, is studying the parchment laid out on the mat to his side. The reference drawn up for him that will become the binding treaty, Daniel the embodiment of it, once they're finished. "All right, let's hope this doesn't tickle too much," he says, and puts the brush back to Daniel's skin below the stinging cut._

_It doesn't tickle. Daniel's thankful for that at least. It's similar in shape to a calligraphy brush, and the characters are bold enough that each stroke is a touch rather than a tease._

_It's still a touch, though. On his already hot, over-sensitive skin, painting a mixture of his own blood in those bold characters across the left side of his chest and in long strings down his ribs. Every few characters Jack pauses, dips the brush back into the pot, and he gets a few seconds of reprieve before the sensations start all over again, but it's still so much to handle…_

_"Breathe in," Jack murmurs, touching the brush to one end of that still-stinging line like a warning. He sucks in the breath and still shudders at the slow, firm sweep of the brush. God, they've not even finished one panel and he's so turned on he's aching with it._

_"Jack," he says, helplessly with nothing to follow it._

_"I know." Jack's voice is gentle as he moves to the next set of characters, low down along the lowest arc of Daniel's ribs. "I know. Just keep breathing for me."_

_"I'm gonna need to scream," he admits, clenching his jaw on the words. "Not – not yet, but I – fuck, everything's too bright, it's going to be too much, I'm sorry."_

_"Shh." Sam puts her hand firmly against his cheek, turning his head toward where she's still sitting close to Teal'c as Jack works. "Just tell me," she says, soothing. "Don't worry about it, just tell me. Whatever you need."_

_The brush going back onto its stand is a faint sound that's like a firecracker in his ears. Breathe. They just want him to breathe. "I need you to stay here," he tells her, already pleading. Sam rests her thumb on his lips._

_"I will. I'm right here."_

_Jack's hand moves to steady his right side, high up on his ribcage, and anticipation rolls through him. "Jack? Are you…?"_

_"Yeah. You ready?"_

_"No," he says, honestly. He opens his eyes and looks down, offers Jack a brave smile. "But I'm green."_

_Jack chuckles, giving him a proud, fond look in return. "All right, then. Yellow if you need me to take a break." He doesn't state the obvious: that red isn't really an option._

_"Yes, Jack." It slips out, so he stops fighting it. He's not going to get through this without sinking into submission, there's no way. It's just easier to let it happen and worry about the consequences later._

_"Good boy," Jack murmurs, barely out loud, and makes the second cut; slow and careful across the right side of his chest._

_He shudders and his cock jumps, pain spiking and pleasure rushing under his skin, but at least the sound he makes is a moan rather than a scream. That first cut seems to jump back to the front of his attention, a renewed sting, and he's glad of Teal'c holding him calmly in place so that writhing away physically isn't possible._

_There must be something else in the brew making him bleed more easily, he thinks distantly, that part of him that's still aware of why they're doing this. Jack's making sure the cuts are as shallow as he can, but he's drawn those bold symbols over the whole of the left side of Daniel's chest on just two sweeps of the brush. There was some kind of fixative in the mixing pot, he remembers Sam running tests, but most of the pigment will have come from his own blood, that's the whole point…_

_It's easier to take the brush, now he knows what to expect. He starts to notice the sensation of the designs drying onto his skin, instead; whatever his blood is being mixed with, it changes the texture to something stickier. It feels like superglue, or one of those weird peeling face masks Sam sometimes uses. He just hopes it comes off as easily as the latter, not the former –_

_"Oh-" He bites off a gasp, jerking and twitching away as the brush flicks across a sensitive spot high up on his side._

_"Sorry, sorry." Jack holds off the brush and grasps his hip, holding him steady. "Wow, that stuff's really doing a number on you, if you felt that."_

_"Yeah." He thinks about breathing, tries to relax back into Teal'c's hold, turns his face into Sam's palm. "It's pretty… pretty strong."_

_"You're doing so well," Sam assures him. It's easiest to look up at her than anywhere else, and see that she's watching the designs take shape. "Nice slow breath for me," she says, and he feels the brush against that cut again._

_Jack times it perfectly, one long careful swipe of the brush on his out breath, but it still stings so beautifully that he has to muffle a gasp in Sam's palm. He wonders if there's something else in that pot, too, that's getting into his skin and making it feel_ so _sharp, or if it's purely the combination of alien drugs and his own kink making it so intense._

 _Well, the drugs and the kink and Jack… and Sam, and even Teal'c, in a different but no less important way. He'd been relieved not to have the argument that they should let some stranger cut and decorate his naked body just to get a treaty signed: Sam's right, he would have hated that, might even have filed it into the mental box of_ gate travel trauma to process _. But he trusts Jack with a blade, even an alien one; he trusts Sam to guide him and keep him safe; he trusts Teal'c to watch over them, and all of that just flips_ potential trauma _on its head into_ potentially incredible _._

_"Nearly done on that side," Sam says, stroking his cheek. "Do you want a break after?"_

_"No, no." He shakes his head. If anything it's just going to get more intense, knowing what's coming. "No, just – it won't make it any easier, just keep going."_

_Jack draws that final flourish – it's a distinctive stroke, he realises – and there's that same too-loud sound of the brush on its stand._

_"All right," he says, obviously in reply. "Thighs next, then."_

_Daniel bites his lip, hard. His chest was the largest piece, but this is going to be even more sensitive – with the added sense memory of Jack's own knife, at home, those times he's drawn blood with it like this but only to make Daniel feel good…_

_"Have some water," Jack says, obviously a command, handing Sam a canteen. Teal'c somehow lifts his head without really letting him go, and Sam puts it carefully to his lips. Even a few sips is refreshing – more so than he's realised it would be, giving him another base sensation to try and calibrate his mind against for at least a moment._

_Jack is shifting position, as he drinks: moving to kneel between his thighs, easing them apart just enough and stretching Daniel's left leg comfortably up over his own. It's as matter-of-fact as it can be, but it's still Jack between his legs and manhandling him, which is enough even when he isn't drugged and over-sensitised and so hard he's already throbbing. His heart is racing, the cuts sting in vivid color, and his skin feels tight and hot under the painted blood all across his chest: having Jack about to start on his thigh is suddenly too much to cope with at once._

_"Sam." He turns his head toward her, fast and desperate before Jack can start. "I don't know if I can – I don't know what they'll do if I scream –" He feels a faint sense of panic for the first time, can't believe he's only just thinking it – his pain tolerance is going to drop like a stone if he can't hold out, and now he's not sure holding out is possible with Jack right there and so much left to do. "If I come – god, please, I don't want – I can't come until it's over, please, it'll hurt so much-"_

_"Shhhh." Sam scoots down until she's practically alongside him, her cheek against Teal'c's arm that's still holding him still. She strokes his face, presses fingers to his lips. "Shh, take a breath. Look at me, just focus on me, okay?"_

_He nods shakily. Shakes his head with a watery laugh. "Sorry, I'm – my god, this stuff is…"_

_"It's all right." She looks like it is, at least, her eyes calm and reassuring. "It's all right, sweetheart. You're doing so, so well for us. I know it's hard to handle it all. Just breathe slowly for a few minutes while we think of something to help, okay?"_

_He lets out the breath he's holding, a little sharply. It tastes of tears in his throat. "Okay."_

_"Good." She leans in and kisses him sweetly on the lips, on the forehead. "I love you, Daniel. You're so strong, you can do this. Just breathe, I'm gonna talk to Jack for a minute, I'll be right back."_

_He nearly begs her not to – they never take their attention away from him during a scene like this, they never leave him alone, and it doesn't matter anymore why they're doing this, his body says that's what this is –_

_"Daniel Jackson." Teal'c's hands flex on his shoulders, and suddenly he's looking up into calm, concerned eyes. "You are not alone. I am here with you. You must simply breathe," and he feels the deep, deep breath Teal'c pulls in and lets out, right through the crossed legs under his head and warm hands on his shoulders. "Breathe," Teal'c says again, and Daniel follows along, the panic unravelling with each rise and fall of Teal'c's limbs around him._

_Relaxing is too much to ask of himself right now, when he can't stop his skin from smarting or his cock from aching, but he's at least calmer when Sam kneels back down beside him and puts a hand back on his face._

_"Hey, sweetheart." She gives him a soft smile. "Teal'c taking good care of you?"_

_He manages an unsteady smile, for her. "Yeah… might be feeling a little less crazy."_

_"Good." She strokes his hair back. "Okay. Improvisation, here we come." She holds up what looks like a fair attempt at a ball gag, roughly crafted from the sacrifice of one of those ornate cushions like the one under his head. It's only a long torn-off strip of blue silk with a large knot midway along, but right now Daniel honestly thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "I know under normal circumstances, gags aren't your favorite," Sam says, still stroking his hair with the other hand. "But I'll stay right here for you to tap out, I promise."_

_She's right – words are too core to who he is to really be comfortable wearing a gag regularly, but these aren't exactly normal circumstances. "Thank you." He has to close his eyes for a second, breathing through the rush of relief. "Fuck,_ thank you _."_

_Sam smiles, relief obvious in her expression too. "Good. That's good." When he opens his eyes again she's looking down at Jack, then back to him. "We're going to do what we can to keep you from coming," she says, and if he could possibly escape Teal'c's hold, Daniel would kiss her senseless. "It might have to be a little tight, but Jack's going to be right there, he'll look after you. Is that okay?"_

_Daniel loves them so goddamn much. "Yes, Sam."_

_Maybe she's seen how much he wants to reach for her, because Sam leans down and kisses him for that. "My good boy," she murmurs, and those words in that honey-smooth tone will never fail to melt him inside. "You're so good for us, Daniel. It's okay that you need some help, you know that, don't you?"_

_Tears suddenly sting in his eyes, hearing her say it. "Thank you, Sam," he whispers, even sounding tearful to his own ears. Sam makes a soft, aching sound and rests her forehead lightly against his, her hand cupped around his head._

_"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "Shh. Anything you need. We should have thought of it earlier, I'm sorry."_

_"Not your fault." He just lets the tears come, lets her wipe them away for him. "Who'd have thought we should start carrying kit in our kit," and Sam laughs._

_"I love you." She kisses his forehead, but doesn't straighten up; just glances down and gives Jack a nod and a long look, before meeting Daniel's eyes again. "Deep breath, and tell me if this is too tight," she says, so in sync to the feeling of something being looped around his balls that if he couldn't feel both her hands he'd swear somehow she was doing it._

_He's not sure what Jack's improvising with – paracord? a bootlace? his combat bracelet? – but whatever it is, he manages to get it on with only the barest of touches. It wraps behind his balls, around the base of his cock and back, and the sensation when Jack carefully pulls it tight is such a good pain that he gasps, arching his hips toward it._

_"Oh god – thank you, sir, thank you, thank you."_

_Jack puts warm hands on his hips, gently holds him back down against the floor. "I made it pretty tight. I know you're gonna enjoy it, but tap out with Sam if it starts to hurt too much. Understood?"_

_"Yes sir." It's such a relief, he feels like his lungs suddenly have twice the space. This is a pain he can handle, one he likes, one he knows his limits for and how to push them, if they need him to. That does as much to settle him as giving up the control in the first place._

_Sam leans back. "Lift your head up," she says, and he obeys far enough for her to comfortably settle the improvised gag between his teeth and tie it firmly behind his head. The silk knot yields a little to the pressure of his jaw, but only enough that it feels even more controlling, being able to bite down on it as if it's a bit between his teeth, as if he's clamping his jaw shut._

_Sam reaches up, into Teal'c's lap, and gets his closest hand in hers. "Tap for yellow," she says, and he nods. "Squeeze for green," and he squeezes, quickly, before he can overthink it._

_She doesn't second guess him. He loves her for that._

_"Go," she says, and he feels Jack's hand spread across the width of his thigh, Jack's weight come down on his knee to hold him still._

_"Breathe as best you can, Daniel. I've got you," Jack says, and draws the knife across the top of his thigh._

Fuck _, he's glad they stopped, can't believe he tried not to – the pain of that is like a flashbang under his skin, beautiful but too vivid, waking the twin lines of heat across his chest all over again. He keens around the gag in his mouth, fighting against Teal'c and Jack – he doesn't want to, he just can't not, and then Jack just swipes the brush along the cut and he's sobbing around the silk. He actually loses a few seconds to the intensity of it: the bright, bright pain, Teal'c just a calmly breathing pressure holding him down, Sam holding his hand as she watches him intently, and Jack wrestling him under control to take what he needs…_

_Every inch of him is whip-tense when he comes back to himself: it takes a long second of biting down and breathing hard to get back enough control of his body to sag back down under their hands. The first sensation that hits him isn't even the stinging cuts, or the brush on his thigh: it's the tight cord tied around him and the throb of his pulse against it, and he's so relieved all over again._

_"Good boy," Sam's murmuring, still stroking his hair, calmly wiping his tears as they escape. "So good, you're so good, you can do this."_

_Jack's working almost efficiently now, from the feel of it. The angle is odd, but when he looks it's not dissimilar to how he imagines he looks, himself, seated on any given floor with his journal in his lap and writing out his latest notes. This is just Jack doing the writing, and it's onto his skin, with his own blood…_

_No, not dissimilar at all._

_"Almost done." Jack squeezes his knee with a quick hand. "No need to reload for this one. How you doing?"_

_He squeezes Sam's hand, if only lightly. She strokes his cheek with his thumb._

_"Green, but the next one's going to be the worst, I think." She looks down at him as she says it; he closes his eyes and nods, so glad she's here. They're all practically telepathic after this many years, but Sam… she just always understands this side of him, even when he's finding it hard to understand himself._

_"I figured." Jack makes that last flourish and returns the brush to its stand. He stretches Daniel's leg out and climbs over the other to sit at his side, tugging him into position. This time his grip is tighter, prepared for the ensuing fight. "Hold on, T," he says, and Daniel's sobbing even before the blade makes contact._

_He knew he'd scream, sooner or later. It hurts his throat when it escapes, even muffled by the gag and the desperate clench of his jaw: he's not sure if it's whatever's in his bloodstream still getting stronger or just the overstimulation of it all, but he's getting close to an edge he's not sure he can handle falling from._

_Both of his thighs are throbbing to the beat of his pulse, his cock still a painfully hard accompaniment between them. Jack loads the brush with that long sweep along the newest cut and he screams again, so hard that Sam curls back down around his head and shoulders, either to help muffle the sound or just to hold him, he doesn't know and doesn't care._

_"Shh, shh, shhh, that's it, it's done, shh." He should see her clearly, this close, but tears make everything a blur. "Shh, you're doing so well, relax, we've got you."_

_"Sam," he tries to say, around the damp gag between his teeth._ It's too much, it's going to be too much… __

_"Shh, my good boy," she whispers, so quiet he's not sure even Jack will hear. "You're so strong. We love you, we're so proud of you. We've got you, I know it's intense but we've got you, you're safe with us, I promise." She's stroking his hair and just letting him cry, now. "Let it out, sweetheart, let it hurt, you're fighting it." God, she knows him so well, he doesn't know how she can understand when he hasn't, but she does and she's right. He's scared, not of them or the knife but of how intensely he's feeling it all, and it's making him try to push it away…_

_It's like trying to override his heartbeat, making his hand work. One tap is all it takes._

_"Jack, stop." She says it as she sits up - not loudly, but the brush that's halfway down his thigh immediately disappears. She squeezes Daniel's hand. "Can I take the gag off for a few minutes?"_

_He nods, shaky with it. She lets his hand go, works the gag out of his teeth with both hands and tugs it gently past his chin as he drags in a harsh, ragged breath._

_"I'm scared," he whispers, before any of them can ask. Somehow hearing it out loud in his own voice makes him laugh, no humor in it at all. "Oh god, this stuff is – it shouldn't be this intense, what if I can't handle it-"_

_"You can." Jack puts a hand on the center of his chest, very carefully, fingers spread to fit between the blood dried onto his skin. "Listen to me, Daniel. You're strong, you can take it." Every word is that firm, confident, dominant voice that he'd follow anywhere; it sounds like firelight in Minnesota. "I know you can, just stop fighting it and let it hurt. We're right here, all three of us, we'll catch you."_

_He sobs, but this time it feels like a knot releasing somewhere in his chest. The stinging pain surges up and he just lets it as best he can, arches into it and moans quietly as it crests over him. "I'm never taking drugs ever again," he gasps out, hears his voice shake. "Never in my_ life _."_

_Jack chuckles quietly. "Glad to hear it. Think you can do without the gag while I finish up this one?"_

_"Yeah… yes, sir." Fuck, this is why he doesn't enjoy being gagged, it's as if the words pile up behind it and crowd his head. "Where… where are you going next?"_

_Jack puts the brush back to his skin before answering. "Arms, then shoulders, then-"_

_"Don't," he hisses, not aware he's going to until he does. His cock throbs painfully at just the unspoken final piece of the puzzle being written on his body. He winces, not from the pain. "Sorry, I –"_

_"S'okay." Jack makes that final line and sets the brush down. He rubs Daniel's calf with a firm hand. "Gonna do your arms next, so T's gonna have to let you up." Teal'c's hands move even as he says it. "Have some more water and a few bites while I figure out where I want you."_

_"Yes, sir." It's so much easier when he can say it._

_Sam opens a power bar for him, breaks off pieces and feeds him from her fingers. Teal'c doesn't say a word, but closes in behind him and rubs his shoulders, his arms, in slow warming strokes as he focuses everything he still has in him on doing as he's told. His chest and thighs and cock are like the five points on a star, sharp and pulsing with heat, but sitting up he can get a first look at what Jack's actually been doing, and it's…_

_"It's beautiful," he murmurs, fingers so close but not daring to touch the bold, bright characters written down the length of his thigh. They're already almost dry, shiny-smooth, stretching rather than cracking with the movement of his skin._

_Jack's mouth quirks in a half-smile. "We'll take a photo. You ready?"_

_He takes a deep breath and draws his fingers back without touching. "Yes, sir."_

_"All right. Lie back down, arm out." Jack demonstrates with one arm, tossing Sam one of the larger pillows with the other._

_"Yes, sir." He leans into it all, leans back and doesn't even think, just trusts. Teal'c lowers his head back down to that pillow in his lap; Sam takes his outstretched hand and arranges the second pillow under his forearm. Jack settles down at his side, knife in hand, brush stand and pot on the floor beside him._

_"Relax," Jack says, smoothing a hand down the length of his arm. "What are you going to do when I cut you, Daniel?"_

_He takes a breath. "Let it hurt, sir."_

_Jack smiles at him, so proudly. "Good boy. You can take it, remember. We're here for you. Are you ready?"_

_He's not sure whether to watch or look away, so he just closes his eyes. "Yes, sir."_

_"Good boy," Jack repeats, the exact same tone, and draws a careful line of pain across the inside of his elbow._

_It's so much shorter than the others so far, it's almost anticlimactic, but it's exactly what he needs, like a reset to pull all those too-sharp sensations together. It stings, starts to throb with the very next beat of his heart, but he breathes and focuses on them – Teal'c is there above him, Sam is there with her hand on his shoulder, Jack is there by his side – and the pain flows through him like a hot tide, so familiar and beautiful he just moans, long and soft and almost languid with it. "Ohhh…"_

_"There we are, that's it, exactly like that. Just feel it." The brush touches his skin, swipes along the cut without any other warning, sends a burst of heat up his arm. Jack's voice is as bright as the pain, full of pleasure. "Does that hurt?"_

_He licks his lips. "Mmm… yes, sir, it hurts…"_

_Jack laughs, low and pleased. "Knew you were in there somewhere. Well done, that was perfect." The brush comes back, those now-familiar short strokes, and he's got an image in his head now; he can see, even with his eyes closed, each bold character as it flows from Jack's hand and onto his skin. Each one is a little closer to his wrist, and when Jack gets there the last thing he adds is not just that quick finishing swipe, but a soft kiss into Daniel's open palm._

_"Perfect," he repeats, like an audible smile. "You're right, you know. You look beautiful."_

_Daniel hums, blinks his eyes open. Jack's looking down at him, taking all of him in, and looks like he'd happily devour Daniel alive right now._

_"Other side now," he says. Daniel stretches his right arm out before Jack can even move. Something that isn't just the drugs is making it feel strange, different to any scene they've ever done - he's starting to feel floaty but he's still hyperaware of his body, the expanse of painted skin and every limb throbbing, so he's aware he's spreadeagle naked on the mat in the middle of his team, bleeding and so goddamn hard it's just a constant background pulse under everything else. He just doesn't care. He doesn't need to care, because Jack's right. They're here, they'll catch him if they have to. He can just let go._

_It's such a simple thing, but it makes everything so different, so easy._

_Jack's hand strokes down his arm like he's a canvas being laid out, a blank page ready to take on form and meaning. He hums again, encouraging, and Jack rewards him with a quiet, affectionate laugh._

_"I knew you could do it. Love you like this." A steadying hand just above the crease of his elbow. "Ready for me?"_

_"Yes, sir," but his mouth keeps going, conscious control not quite in control any more. "Please, Jack, it felt good, please?"_

_The next touch just below his elbow isn't the knife: it's Jack's mouth, softly sucking lips and warm wet tongue, lingering enough that he moans with the pleasure of it. And not quietly._

_"I'll make it feel even better." It's a whispered promise into his skin as Jack kisses a trail down the inside of his forearm. "I'll make it so good for you. You deserve to feel amazing for this, let me do that for you. Will you let me do that?"_

_"Anything." His eyes have drifted closed again under Jack's assault, unexpected and so tender. "I'll let you do anything, Jack, you know that."_

_The softest kiss, right in his palm, a matched set. "I know you will," and Jack's voice is full of so much he can't separate it out. Love, pride, amazement, relief – but most of all that dark pleasure he takes in doing this, that makes Daniel feel so powerful to bring it out, and so honored to be able to see it. "This is gonna feel good, Daniel," as if just by saying it he can make it true. Daniel actually believes he could._

_The sharp line that opens across his skin is just pleasure, hot and dark. Jack doesn't even wait – there's only barely the time for him to have swapped tools and then the brush draws along it, and Daniel's whole body shivers. He knows he's sinking faster now – he knows he can get there, and that's drawing him into the place where nothing matters at all, pain or pleasure it's all the same._

_It must be minutes, but it seems like only seconds until Jack's pressing another kiss into his palm._

_"Need you to sit up now." Jack replaces his mouth with a hand, folds Daniel's fingers around his own. Another hand joins in on his other side: Sam, her fingers strong and warm and holding tight. Teal'c supports him from behind and he's lifted between them, no effort at all, until he's sitting upright with his knees up in front of him, back straight and leaning forward, limbs carefully arranged by their hands. His cock juts up helplessly between his thighs, thick and red and gloriously painful, enough that he's both overjoyed they're leaving him to feel it and yet wants to beg them – someone, anyone – to please, please touch him,_ please _let him come…_

_Sam settles next to him, close enough to rest one aching thigh against hers; she reaches up and curls a hand behind his neck, just firm enough to hold him in place._

_"Yellow if you need to move, remember."_

_He feels light-headed, not quite steady, but her touch is like an anchor keeping him in place. He lets himself settle and slip under again under her hand, lets the pain and the need break over him with a low moan. "Mmm… yes, Sam."_

_Jack strokes a hand down his spine, slow and just as firm as Sam's. Follows it with a kiss, hot and tender._

_"Stay still for me now." Fingers glide across the plane of his shoulder, tracing the swell of muscle. "Just relax." That hand rests back on his spine, as much a command as the sound of Jack's voice. "Just feel for me, Daniel. That's all you have to do now."_

_He closes his eyes again. "Yes, sir."_

_"Good boy. Let this hurt," and it's a command he has no way to disobey, feeling every moment of it as Jack cuts a slow rolling curve outward along his shoulder blade._

_"Oh god, ohhh god, Jack…" It's a duller, deeper pain, a new harmony sliding into the chorus of sensation. "Oh god, do that again, please-"_

_"Not yet," Jack says, gentle and amused. He tips his head forward with a helpless, desperate moan._

_"Please, Jack, please – oh, fuck," he's forgotten the brush, somehow, until it traces out that curve of pain all over again. He shudders all over, fists clenching and releasing in reaction to the sheer intensity of how it_ feels _._

_"Not yet." Jack is so calm, as he starts to work down Daniel's back, it just makes the need more desperate. Daniel mewls shamelessly, a sob rising up in his throat._

_"Please,_ please _…"_

 _He's so lost in needing something,_ anything _, he feels Sam's hand slide up into his hair but it doesn't register what's happening – until her fingers twist almost savagely and drag his head up, a pain so familiar and intimate it sings down his spine straight to his bound cock even before her mouth finds his._

_Oh, he should just have been kissing her this whole time. She tastes exquisite, just the same as ever but more, so much more. Her lips are so soft and pressed so hard against his, her tongue licking deep and dirty into his mouth, and she's entirely in control; holding his head up with those unyielding fingers in his hair and then a hand under his jaw that leaves him no way to break the kiss if he wanted to._

_He doesn't want to. He's hers completely, melting into her, his hands finding purchase on her wherever they can; letting her take him, just moaning and whining into her mouth as Jack's confident hand works those bold lines of meaning down his back. She's still kissing him when Jack swipes across the cut again, swallows his moan of pleasure with nothing but a quiet hum of encouragement. She's still kissing him when Jack makes that last stroke out from his spine and sets the brush down._

_She almost stops, for a moment: the small and shrinking part of him that's still clear-headed realises why, what's coming next, and chases her mouth even against her tight grip on his hair. Sam takes a fast breath, a laugh, and dives back in harder, so she's still kissing him when Jack cuts him again and that deep, hot pain sweeps out from the back of his right shoulder._

_He sobs into her mouth, tastes his own tears again and doesn't care. Each time Jack loads the brush, the sound Sam kisses out of his mouth is almost a scream – he's so close to floating, to_ flying _, it feels like Jack's pulling wings out from under his skin. Each stroke down his back is like a feather landing, bringing another burst of pleasure with it, drying tight onto his skin and sinking back into him: that last, light sweep of the brush nearly takes him over the edge, so close he starts shaking and Sam finally pulls back to look at him._

_"Oh, Daniel." She smiles; a dark, sweet little smile full of that same pleasure she's sharing with Jack. Her thumb strokes his lips. "You're so close, aren't you?"_

_He's still sobbing; his skin is singing as if Jack's caned him all over, pulsing to the thunder of his heartbeat. He doesn't remember how to do anything but beg. "Please, Sam, please, please…"_

_"Just a little longer," she says, half soothing promise and half wicked tease. He sobs harder, so desperate he can't bear it._

_"Please… Sam, it hurts, it hurts, please…"_

_"I know." Her voice is low, sultry, vibrant. "I know it does, sweetheart. And you love it, don't you? It feels so good when it hurts so much."_

_He could take flight just from the sound of her like this, and she must know it. "Yes," he gasps out. "Yes, oh my god, it's so… Sam, Sam, please, it's too good-"_

_"It's going to hurt a little more now," she murmurs, and kisses him through the helpless, shaking sobs. "We're almost done, you've done so well. Let's see how high we can get you before you come, hmm?"_

_"_ Yes _, please, please, yes…"_

_She looks so pleased. "All right. On your knees for us."_

_Hands touch his skin, careful and sure, not even a hesitation when he twitches and gasps at every fingertip. He loses count of how many, can't work out whose are where and doesn't try. They move him up onto his hands and knees, ease his shoulders down, settle him into a position so familiar it makes him shudder with the thought of how it's going to feel._

_"Look at you." The hand that strokes and cups his ass is Jack's, he's sure of at least that. "All ready for me, even after all this." A kiss on one cheek. "You're amazing, Daniel." Another kiss, a mirror of the first. "So fucking amazing. Last set now, are you gonna be good for me?"_

_He's beyond sobbing, just crying silent helpless tears, his voice cracking. "Yes sir, Jack, I promise, I'll be good, please…"_

_Jack's tracing a slow line above the swell of his left cheek with one finger. "Good boy. It's gonna hurt. Sam's going to put the gag back on so you can be as loud as you need."_

_He lifts his head eagerly, opens his mouth, lets Sam work the knotted silk back between his teeth. She checks it's tied tight, gently pushes his head back down and takes his hand. Her fingers stay buried in his hair and he moans with pleasure at the sensation of being held down like that – held down for Jack, who's settling behind him with the knife –_

_"Be good for me, Daniel," he says, and cuts, careful and short and sharp, high up across his ass._

_Daniel screams. It's like a cane strike but so much worse, and_ so _much better. Jack swiping it with the brush hurts so much he screams a second time and grips Sam's hand like a lifeline as that last sane part of him gives in and lets go._

_Everything goes hazy, unreal. He's floating, only tethered to his body by the intensity of sensation roaring through him. It should be pain but it's only pleasure now: searing and bright like a forest fire, pulsing to his heart, spilling out of every cut. He feels flayed open, literally, his own blood drying on the outside of his over-sensitised skin. He can feel himself whining, whimpering, begging around the gag, but none of it is coming from him – he doesn't know what he's trying to say, or who he wants to hear –_

_"I know, sweetheart." Sam's voice is still that dark, pleased tone. "I know, you're almost there." Her hand leaves his hair and he moans in protest at the loss. "One more and you're done," she says, and he screams again when her fingers touch the cord tied around his cock._

_The background pain and frustrated pleasure of being so, so desperate to come punches through everything else – suddenly it's as if he can see the edge and he's_ so high _, as if only that cord is tethering him and she's about to let it go –_

_"No, no no no, no, no," but he's just babbling around the gag, drooling as he tries to plead with her. "No no no no no," it doesn't matter, he knows it doesn't, however much he begs and cries, however much noise he tries to make, but he can't stop himself. "No, please no-"_

_"Shh, be good," Jack says, but there's no reprimand in it. "Be good and take it, Daniel, you can do it. We've got you," and that's what echoes in Daniel's ears, hangs in his head as Jack cuts him the last time, that matching line of sharp, sharp heat across the swell of his right ass cheek._

_He screams, and Sam loosens the cord and takes hold of his cock, and then he really_ screams _. It_ hurts _from being tied so tight, it hurts so much he can't take it – but he doesn't have a choice, can't escape Sam's merciless hand pumping him even though he's screaming and crying and begging her to stop._

_And through it, as if he doesn't even notice, Jack's working the last few characters onto his skin, gripping him tightly by the waist to keep him still enough until that final long sweeping flick, across the muscle of his ass._

_Everything goes white. Everything hurts and it feels_ so good _– the scream doesn't even make it out of his chest before he fucks into Sam's hand, comes hard and keeps coming like he can't stop and he's not falling – he's_ flying _, on so much sensation it's overwhelming, and so utterly taken apart that all he can do is sob and shake and feel it, keep on_ feeling it. __

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* * *

_  
_

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__

Between carefully placed hands on Jack's part and even more careful movements on his own, they manage to get him up onto the infirmary bed and lying on his side, a position that's at least comfortable and leaves all the searing hot patches of skin untouched. Jack holds him still with a hand on his waist and eases his briefs down enough to expose the last two cuts for Janet to examine, and then he can finally let out the breath he's holding and relax.

__

"She's gonna kill me." Jack drags up a chair and perches in front of him. He huffs, too tired and too beautifully on edge to laugh.

__

"Yeah, I'm not sure _safe, sane and consensual_ is going to fly." He smirks with it, but it's a little strained. He tries to think about how to conjugate ancient Greek rather than about the way the blade felt, hot and wonderful each time it bit through his skin; or the gorgeous, heady weight of Jack's cock on his tongue...

__

"Daniel."

__

He blinks. Jack's watching him, close enough to touch, careful but warm, and knowing. "Sorry. I'm just..."

__

There's sympathy in the heat in Jack's eyes. "Yeah, I know." Jack leans in, close enough to whisper. "You're still high. Fraiser'll get that. Take it easy and try not to worry about it."

__

He snorts. "Yeah."

__

"So, Daniel, Sam tells me –" 

__

Jack leans back smoothly and stands up as Janet walks in with Sam on her heels. Even the seasoned medical professional that she is, he sees her pause at the sight of him, though only for a split second. "Oh my god."

__

"It looks worse than it is," Jack says, quickly. Daniel thinks about the image he probably makes right now – stripped right down to his underwear and covered in blood-red patterns from shoulder to knee, an array of obviously intentional knife wounds on display – and figures Jack probably has a point.

__

Janet doesn't seems to think so, from the scowl on her face. "I'll be the judge of that, Colonel."

__

"Most of it isn't…" Daniel licks his lips. Words are still harder than he thought, apparently, especially when thinking about how his body looks makes it too easy to think about how he _got_ to look like that, and the sensations of Jack working his skin... "It's, um, it's just – well, it's blood, but it's not – it's just paint. Not all cuts."

__

"And I was careful," Jack says. "He bled a fair bit, but it stopped quick enough. We've kept everything clean and dressed. Sterilised the knife first and cleaned the blade every time."

__

It takes her a second. Even not entirely sober, Daniel sees the moment she understands. " _You_ did this, sir?!"

__

"It's all right," he says, reaches for Jack's arm as if somehow he can push Jack behind him, bed or no bed. "It's – that was the point, for the ceremony, for the treaty." _And it was beyond fucking incredible,_ he doesn't say, but he's pretty sure Jack and Sam can hear it. 

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* * *

_  
_

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_He's moved, or someone's moved him. He doesn't think he could have lifted a limb under his own steam, but he's curled on his side among a mountain of pillows and the crinkle of the emergency blanket draped over him is loud in his ears. Every inch of his skin is buzzing in sharp focus, his heartbeat slowly thudding in a ten-point rhythm, but the bitten-tight knot is gone from his mouth and he's floating on a haze of pleasure so thick he can almost touch it._

__

_There's a hand moving slowly up and down his calf through the blanket, a hand stroking his hair, a hand holding his between the pillows… not just holding but stroking, across his knuckles and along the length of each finger, a caress that's either idle or deliberate and exceedingly pleasant either way._

__

_Fingertips at his temples, infinitely gentle fingers in his hair, thumbs brushing feather-light across his cheeks. A soft, loving whisper very close, somewhere in this cocoon of warmth and tender hands. "Hey, Daniel. Can you open your eyes for me? Let me see you?"_

__

_His eyelids feel lead-heavy and he's comfortable with them closed, but it's worth it to meet Sam's bright blue eyes, right there where she's curled herself down next to him, and to see the way her smile lights up just because he's heard her._

__

_"Hey," she murmurs softly. "You did so well," and he's confused, seeing the sheen of tears in her eyes. He frowns, though it feels vague; none of his muscles want to cooperate._

__

_"Sam…?"_

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_"Shh, just relax now, we've got you."_

__

_He licks his lips. He wants to touch her, but his hands are tucked under the blanket. "Y'okay…?"_

__

_She laughs, very softly and a little incredulous. "I'm just fine, sweetheart, why?"_

__

_"Don't cry," he says. He doesn't want to make her cry. Sam's smile widens and she wipes her eyes quickly with one hand._

__

_"Oh, shh, I won't. I'm proud of you, that's all." She keeps touching him, soft and loving. "You've done so well. How are you feeling?"_

__

_He grins, feeling dopey and doped up. "Gooooood," he says, and it isn't just Sam who laughs._

__

_"Well, that's a relief." Jack sounds amused and happy, and sincere. He squeezes Daniel's hand gently. "You blacked out for a minute there. I wasn't sure whether to be honored or worried."_

__

_That explains a lot. He feels a drunken giggle bubble out of him. "Mm… be happy. So good, sir, thank you sir…"_

__

_Jack actually groans, but he's grinning back. "Jeez, Daniel. You're so shameless when you're spaced out." His fingers are playful in Daniel's hair, just as loving as the way Sam's cradling his face in her hands. "Feelin' no pain, huh?"_

__

_"Mmm, nope." He pops the 'p' a little, giggles again. "Feelin' great. Love you. Keep the knife?"_

__

_Jack snorts with laughter, still playing with his hair. "I think we get to keep it, yeah, as it happens. Maybe for when you're a very good boy?"_

__

_His skin tingles all over at the thought, even as a tease. "Mmm, could be such a good boy for you, do anything you want…"_

__

_"Shhh." Sam puts a thumb to his lips, giggling with him. "You are," she assures him with a smile. "Always, but right now I think Jack's going to explode if you get any more tempting."_

__

_"Could suck you," he suggests, shuffling himself over a little between the nest of pillows. "C'mere."_

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_"Daniel."_

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_"I want to." He does, he always does. God, kissing Sam was exquisite, how would Jack's cock taste? "Mmm, please?"_

__

_Jack sighs as if he's negotiating some great hardship. "Drink some water and eat something, first."_

__

_"Mm. 'kay." He grins up at Sam. "Can I eat you?"_

__

_She laughs, shaking her head at him. "Maybe_ after _you have another power bar."_

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* * *

  


He _tries_ , about as hard as he's tried anything in his life, but he can't keep from flinching when Janet's gloved fingertips press even gingerly against the edge of that first cut. He's not even sure what the noise is, that he makes, but he does know he's going to lean damned heavily into the _I was drugged_ defence if they ever have to talk about this again.

Sam takes a step closer to the bed and slips her hand into his. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't have to: it's all in her eyes when he looks at her. _We're here, sweetheart. You can do this. I've got you._

 _Fuck it,_ he thinks, a little hazy, and grips her fingers tight. It isn't the first time they've comforted each other in the infirmary, and if Janet thinks it's odd that he needs his hand held for what should be some fairly minor if dramatic-looking injuries, at least she doesn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," is all Janet says, that bedside manner voice. "I just need to take a close look, but if you need some more pain relief-"

"Didn't take any," he mumbles, trying to focus on breathing. At the end of the bed, Jack wraps a warm hand around his ankle. He doesn't need to look, he can feel Jack's voice as easily as Sam's. _Easy, Daniel. Take it easy._

Janet is staring at him. "You – I'm sorry, I thought you just said you didn't take any pain relief for this."

"He didn't," Jack says, in a tone that says he knows the pin is out of the grenade and is throwing himself on it as a last resort. 

"You didn't give him any pain relief before you _cut him._ _Multiple times._ " Janet spins suddenly to the orderly waiting across the room, who's trying very hard to blend into the walls right now. "I want ten cc of morphine-"

"Ah," Jack says, but hesitantly; Daniel doesn't blame him, given Janet seems as likely to have him clapped in irons as anything else right now. "You'll probably want to run a tox screen before you give him anything. He's taken something pretty strong."

"It was part of the ceremony," he adds, quickly, before he can think better of trying to explain. "Last night. A native peyote, it has some kind of psychoactive ingredient that… turns everything up to eleven. Made things more…" He doesn't know how to describe it, and oh it's going to sound _so_ bad. "Sensitive," he has to go with, in the end.

Janet actually glares at him as if she's considering whether he's lost his mind. Again. "Do you mean to tell me, not only did you not take any pain relief, but you took something that made it _worse_?" She's rapidly approaching full throttle, Daniel could see that even if he were completely sober. He's not sure who she's most unimpressed with right now, Jack for cutting him up or him for taking it _and_ an alien drug to boot. "And I don't suppose _any_ of you thought to bring back a sample of this – whatever this was?!" 

Or Sam, apparently, when she dives into the fray. "It's a sacred drink to their tribe. We asked, but we couldn't bring any back, or run any field tests."

"Of course you couldn't." Janet looks like she'd happily wash her hands of the lot of them in a hot minute. "And you just went along with all this?!"

Sam doesn't quite wince, exactly, but that's a definite flinch in her expression before she schools it into something that's trying to be reassuring. "We all talked it through and agreed the whole sce- scenario, before anything happened. Daniel felt – confident, that it was necessary, and not dangerous. We got approval from the General-"

"The _General_ is not your doctor." 

"It was my choice." His chest is throbbing where she touched him, still. He really wishes that didn't feel as good as it does. "And it was fine – like Jack said, he was careful, it was never seriously dangerous, the treaty was a complete success-"

"I do not care about a treaty, Daniel." The way she says it suggests that there's going to be a trail of destruction leading to Hammond's office when they're done here. "As to the danger involved; while these might not be life-threatening injuries, but they're still open wounds. There's still a risk of infection, irritation, scarring – even if the weapon _was_ clean," she shoots Jack a glare, "and we don't know that whatever you took won't affect the healing process…"

Daniel tries to listen, but half of him is wishing he could just tell her that he knows all this, already. That she really doesn't need to lecture him, or any of them, about aftercare like this. That okay, he hasn't ever _had worse_ , in the technical sense, but that he's also never had _better._

The other half of him can only hear the sound of her snapping on a fresh pair of gloves, and he thinks he might be doomed.

  


* * *

  


_Teal'c holds him up a little way as Jack arranges pillows. When he's settled again, sitting up if turned a little awkwardly, Sam re-joins him and holds the canteen to his lips, her other hand behind his neck and stroking lightly, coaxing him to drink. Even that small, simple caress feels intensely good, sending short little twinges of pleasure down his spine._

_After, Sam opens a second power bar and breaks a piece off, the same as before. He opens his mouth eagerly and takes it, sticky cocoa-flavoured sweetness; Sam's fingers are sticky, too, with the next bite, and he sticks his tongue out to lick them before he lets her feed him again._

_Sam smiles, with some heat and even more affection. She puts empty fingers in his eager, open mouth and he sucks contentedly, curling his tongue to lick the stubborn stickiness from her each one. He pouts when she takes her hand back, making her laugh softly. "Be good for me," she says, gently chiding, and gives him a quick kiss. He smiles happily._

_"Yes, Sam."_

_"That's better." She feeds him a bite at a time, a slow ritual. His mouth open; her sticky-sweet fingers inside, leaving the energy-rich treat on his tongue; a tap on his lips to remind him to close his mouth, chew, swallow. His tongue around her fingers, licking the last remnant of sweetness from her hand before they start over again._

_Behind her, Jack is working on the final piece of the ceremony. Daniel watches through half-lidded eyes as he puts that knife to Teal'c's forearm and makes a cut, just long enough to draw blood for a single, simple character beneath it. Teal'c's breathing doesn't even change, or course; he simply sits quietly and permits it, with a tilt of his head and a calm, "Thank you, O'Neill," when Jack pronounces himself finished._

_He watches Jack clean the knife and flip it into the other hand. Put it to his own forearm just the same._

_"Jack," he murmurs, without really thinking about it. There's not much thinking going on in his head at all, and that always feels blissful._

_Jack looks at him, the blade set against his own skin and waiting. "Something you wanna see, Daniel?"_

_His skin tingles. "You," he says honestly, and Jack's eyebrows rise as he smiles._

_"Yeah?" He knee-walks over until he's next to Sam, stretching his arm out along his thigh right in Daniel's eyeline. "Watch, then," he says, that low and dark voice that makes Daniel hot inside, and slides the blade lightly through his skin._

_Daniel shivers all over. Blood wells up in droplets along that thin line, wet and red and glistening, as Jack puts the knife aside and reaches for the brush._

_He's not sure what it is – that he's getting to see a repeat of the same thing that felt so good, that he's getting to watch Jack do that to himself, that Jack is so willing to let him see – but it makes him warm everywhere. Maybe it's the drug swimming through his own veins, because blood on its own has never been a kink of his and he doesn't think it could be, but seeing Jack slowly collect those bright red drops on the tip of the brush and paint it back onto his own skin is enticing in a way he couldn't describe if he tried._

_Jack's holding his gaze as the brush clicks back onto its stand, his eyes dark with a hot, knowing spark in them. "Goddamn, Daniel," he says, roughly, and slips his hand under the blanket._

_He moans at those long, familiar fingers around his cock, handling him with the same ease and confidence as that brush, that knife. He's nearly hard just from watching, but it feels relaxed, even comfortable after being kept so strained and forced to wait for so long, before._

_"Knew you liked that," Jack says, grinning. "I love it when you're so fucking kinky," as he starts stroking Daniel like a reward. "Gotta do Sam next, is that gonna turn you on too?"_

_His skin is so sensitive, he's already arching a little with each pull of Jack's hand. "Yeah," he admits, biting back another moan to get the word out. "I don't know, it's just-"_

_Sam puts a finger to his lips. She's smiling. "Don't think about it," she says, just as easy and willing as Jack. "We don't need you to think," she adds, softer, wicked, and kisses him. He lets himself moan then, happily into her mouth. No thinking. He can do that, or not do that. Whatever they want._

_Jack gives him a last, firm stroke and lets go, chuckling at his soft whine. "Ah, ah. Be patient, I need both hands." He picks up the knife and settles it into his palm. "Last one, so watch carefully."_

_He couldn't see it more clearly if he tried. Sam holds her arm out, resting the back of a loose fist against the blanket. Jack lines up the knife, his fingertips light just below Sam's elbow. Daniel can't look away, but he can still feel Sam's eyes on him as Jack cuts her: a smooth straight line with a stroke that's almost gentle, spots of blood welling before the blade even leaves her skin._

_Sam hisses quietly, hums as Jack switches to the brush and sweeps it easily along the cut. She could take so much more than that without a sound, and that's what makes him look to her as Jack starts to paint: the sparkle in her eyes is obvious, his cock twitching at the realisation that yes, she's being deliberate, making those little noises just for him…_

_He's aware of Teal'c moving to kneel at his other side. Jack smiling with the brush still in hand. Sam drawing the blanket down to his waist._

_"Lean back," she says, and she's smiling too. "Are you warm enough?"_

_"Mm." He shifts a little on the pillows, twitches and gasps when the cut on his right shoulder brushes against silk. The characters drawn across his skin have dried on smooth and stubborn; it's going to take some serious scrubbing and possibly chemicals to get him clean, if he doesn't just have to wait for them to wear off on their own, but at least they don't have to worry about anything rubbing off during the night._

_Jack reaches across him with the brush held out. Teal'c extends his arm, and Daniel watches in a faint daze as he presses down to well up fresh blood for Jack to take. Watches as Sam does the same – and then does it for Jack, too, her fingertips coaxing bright scarlet out of his skin and onto the tip of the brush, held ready with his other hand._

_And then Jack leans over him, sets the wet brush to his sternum and draws that single character for a fourth time, right in the center of Daniel's chest._

  


* * *

  


Janet finally, _finally_ stops touching him, and Daniel nearly sobs with relief as she steps back and flags the hovering orderly again.

"All right, well, everything does seem to be nice and clean, and nothing needs stitching." Daniel bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood, at even the _thought_ of that. "I hesitate to say it, Colonel, but it does look as if you did an acceptable job, under the circumstances."

"Thanks." Jack still sounds as if he expects to have his liver torn out and eaten any moment, but Janet seems to have calmed down from that precipice during her careful examination of his body. Daniel just wishes he could say the same. 

She didn't say anything when she checked his forearms and he lost the fight to stay quiet. She didn't say anything when she checked his thigh and Sam put her other hand over his, too, and even that didn't keep him from getting obviously aroused. She didn't say anything, each time he shivered, as he got more tense, or when he screwed his eyes shut and did algebra in his head because verb conjugations stopped helping and he can't count in prime numbers the way Sam does. 

He doesn't know if she wants to ask, or if she's really buying that he's still high and his body is on a trip, or if she's somehow oblivious to the fact that it's not really pain he's feeling right now. He'd worry more about it if he weren't just trying desperately to focus on breathing and not either grabbing for Sam or Jack or both of them and _begging_ for… anything. _Anything_. Because he's pretty sure Janet _will_ say something and it'll definitely start that awkward conversation, if he suddenly blurts out the _oh fuck Sam please fuck me_ or the _please sir I was so good I need you_ that are hammering against the inside of his skull. 

Janet snaps off her gloves. "I'm going to draw some blood and do a full workup. Do you think you can give me a urine sample?"

He doesn't dare open his mouth to answer her, afraid of what might come out. The thought of moving also isn't that appealing, but he can probably manage it, if it gets him a few minutes to get himself back under control.

"I'll take him," Jack offers, with a glance that Janet doesn't notice and Daniel can't fail to see, or hear. _I know. Hang in there. I've got you._

Okay, for that, he can make himself move.

"Thank you, Colonel." It doesn't sound like one favor will get Jack back into Janet's good graces, but at least she's not protesting. "Let's get your bloods started, and then you can go."

He just breathes as the needle goes in. It hurts – normally he hardly cares, but even that sharp scratch is raw and warm across his nerves – but he just bites his lip and squeezes Sam's hand and breathes. Their blood is still painted over his heart and it feels like it's beating in time; he thinks he can hear it, and hangs more than desperately on the voice in his head that somehow sounds like both of them at once. _We're here. You're doing so well. Just a little longer._

 __The needle finally pulled back out makes him shudder. It's a losing battle and he's just too relieved to be done without sounding like he's getting off on it.

"Come on," Jack says, stepping up to the bed. "Let's go pee for the doc like a good patient."

Janet rolls her eyes at them. "That would make a change."

  


* * *

  


_God, he might take back the pledge never to drink this stuff again because Jack's cock tastes amazing, beyond amazing, so hot and sweat-salty on his tongue. He moans happily, petting Jack's hips and waist and ass with wandering hands to urge him on. He's minutes from having come for a second time himself, in Sam's hand with their blood still drying on his chest; he's still floating on the insane pleasure high of it all and it's so easy to relax his jaw, it's just harder to make his hands coordinate to pull Jack in, get him deep enough –_

_"Oh, don't tease him," Sam says, with a soft laugh. "You know what he wants, go on, he's going to love it in this state."_

_Jack chuckles. He sinks a hand into Daniel's hair and it feels glorious, the way that familiar grip goes from gentle to firm to forceful in a smooth arc of sensation, ending in his head held still and Jack's cock bumping the back of his throat._

_He swallows and Jack groans. "Ah, Daniel…"_

_He moans again, louder, in reply; Jack's laugh is deep and breathless, his fingers tight in Daniel's hair. "God, you're so good, Daniel, you're so good, that's it…"_

_The only possible thing wrong with having his mouth full of Jack's hot, hard, leaking cock is not being able to say it back, because Jack isn't just good, he's magnificent. He's_ everything _Daniel could ever want him to be, the best man he's ever known, the only man he can imagine being so, so in love with, with every single atom of his being. Jack just gives him everything, anything, so easily, just loves him no matter what he wants or needs – so much and so clear that he can never doubt it for even a second, even when Jack's hurting him – especially when Jack's hurting him, using him, always so well and so perfectly…_

 _Jack pushes deeper with his next thrust, slides all the way down his throat and stays there, so deep that Daniel's nose is pressed into wiry curls and all he can taste, smell, feel,_ breathe _is Jack. He's Jack's entirely, to use how he wants to, and it's utter heaven. His skin feels like he's glowing; if he looked, he's not sure he wouldn't see light bleeding out from the cuts that are pulsing quietly with his heartbeat. Jack is close, so close, he can feel it – hear it, in the sounds he's making, a mess of fiercely tender groans of how Daniel is perfect, he's such a good, perfect boy, he feels so good, he's taking it so well, he's taken everything so, so well and they love him so, so much –_

 _He feels it when Jack starts to come, feels it rush under the strained-tight skin on his tongue and pulse down his throat. He grabs Jack's ass before he can pull back, traps him there and swallows, gulping it down hard and eager as Jack curls over him and just makes him take it all. It's exactly what he wants,_ exactly _, and he's boneless with bliss when Jack finally pulls out and flops back gasping onto the mat beside him._

_"My god, you're so hot when you do that." Sam's eyes are shining as she settles down into the nest of pillows on his other side. She leans over and kisses him, licking his lips apart with a satisfied hum when he just stays relaxed and lets her taste Jack out of his mouth. "Mmm…" She runs her thumb over his lower lip. "Hey, gorgeous," she murmurs, and he smiles happily against her fingers. Sam laughs affectionately. "You enjoyed that, huh? Was that what you wanted?"_

_"Mm-hmm." He's vaguely aware he's not really coherent, at this point, but Sam doesn't seem to mind._

_"Good." She tucks the blanket back around him. It's warm, not as soft as the silky pillows or her skin, but familiar enough for his skin not to blaze with new sensation when it touches him. He nestles into the pillows and Sam smiles, stroking his hair. "Are you sleepy now? We've got until sunrise, and we do need you at least a little verbal again." She taps his lips playfully._

_"Mmmm." He could sleep. Sleep sounds nice, if he's warm like this, if they're close. They're not close enough, right now. "Sam," he manages to say, snaking a hand out to touch her._

_"I know, sweetheart." Sam laughs tenderly and catches his hand, kisses his fingers before tucking it back under the blanket. "Stay there, we'll come to you."_

_"Mm," he says, and hears Jack chuckle in reply._

_"I kinda wish we could stay awake." He hears the rustle of sleeping bags, familiar but loud in his ears on both sides. Jack gets there first, shifting a few pillows around so that he can take their place with warm skin instead of silk. "Gotta love seeing you like this," he adds, as Daniel turns a little more toward him. He's smiling, the same open, tender smile he'd have in their bed at home instead of here. "All chilled out and happy, just for us," he murmurs, close enough now for it to be a quiet, playful little tease as he puts a hand on Daniel's chest. Even very gently it makes him shiver, pleasure rippling out across his skin at being touched at all, and especially like that._

_"Shh," Sam murmurs, settling into the pillows on his other side. "Still feeling it, then, I guess?"_

_"Mmmm…" He gropes out for her again, too, with a liquid moan when she drapes a careful arm around him and there's skin and cotton against his back, her breasts pressing lightly just below the cuts on his shoulders. Jack chuckles again, closer and softer now._

_"That's it, take it easy. Just go with it." A knee eased between his own, a hand splayed across his side. Jack's chest close enough to feel the warmth of him without quite touching, a literal hair's breadth apart. "Told ya, you just feel how you feel," and Jack kisses him, starts to stroke up and down his side and just smiles at the tremors that follow his hand. "And you feel pretty good to me…"_

_Sam smirks against the back of his neck. "You're a bad man."_

_"Can't help it." Jack flashes a grin at him. "I could stay up all night and just touch you," murmured so nearly into his mouth that he tastes the breath of it. "You're so damn sensitive, I can feel how much you like this."_

_"Mm… yeah." He hears it, even if he's not really aware of saying it. "Love you. Please."_

_"Then close your eyes," Sam whispers in his ear. Her thumb rubs along his hip, her fingers curled just above the cut on his thigh. "Let us touch you," so he does, just lets his eyes fall closed and drifts on the high of it all and the joy of being stroked, kissed, held, until he slowly falls asleep between them._

  


* * *

  


Jack screws the cap back on the sample bottle with one hand and reaches for him with the other. 

"At least you're already pretty naked," he murmurs, and Daniel tries to laugh but only a soft, needy moan comes out. Jack's hands skim down his sides and tug him in close, and even that's enough to make him start panting and press his face into Jack's neck to muffle the sound.

"Shh." Jack grips his wrists, handling him as easily as if they're at home and not hiding in a restroom cubicle three corridors from the infirmary. "Tell me if anything feels bad," he murmurs, hooking Daniel's arm around his own neck, and Daniel smiles at the very deliberate wording.

"Yes, sir." 

Jack chuckles right in his ear and puts a hand on the back of his head, holding him there. "I got ya," is all he says, before his other hand is around Daniel's cock and stroking – full, fast strokes with a grip just tight enough to be perfect for how much Daniel needs to come, right now, as soon as he possibly can. Even for a quick fuck in the restroom this is going to be _quick_ – but that doesn't mean Jack isn't still doing the absolute best he can to take care of him.

"Tell me when you're close," he whispers, when Daniel's panting starts to speed up and he holds on tighter. "Gonna go down on you and swallow, make sure we don't leave a mess. Return the favor," he adds, wickedly, as if he needs to. As if Daniel isn't already remembering the taste, the feeling, the high of taking _everything_ Jack gives him that has nothing at all to do with any drug.

It doesn't take long. He's practically vibrating, he's hot all over, and Jack's hand on him is suddenly wet with more than a quick spit of saliva. The cuts on his arms are like bright lines of fire, both pressed against Jack's skin.

" _Jack_ ," he manages to gasp out. " _Jack-_ "

God, the man has reflexes. Jack turns him, lowers him onto the closed lid of the toilet and kneels, all in one motion that barely even takes any of that glorious focus away from his cock – it just switches, as Jack moves both hands to steady him and takes over with his mouth instead. 

He nearly bites through his lip trying not to cry out. His fingers fist into Jack's hair and Jack just relaxes down – sucking hard, tongue working to urge him deeper, lets him push and take and thrust until it feels too good –

One more rough thrust, and he's down Jack's throat and coming hard, biting down on his own fingers in his mouth to keep from screaming loud enough to be heard from the infirmary. _Fuck_ , Jack is so good at this, even fast and furious like this - his mouth is a wicked thing Daniel's never going to have enough of, especially the way he's never in a hurry to stop – the way he swallows, sinful smirking lips still tight and tongue _licking_ , rubbing the underside of Daniel's cock, urging him to keep coming, to give him more…

He's shaking when he has to drag Jack's head up, afraid to voice the _oh god stop please stop_ because he's not going to be quiet about it, not right now. His skin is throbbing but the desperate tension is gone, quakes of pleasure just washing over him. Jack grins shamelessly up at him and licks his lips, slow and deliberate.

"You even stayed quiet," he says, pleased and surprised. "Good boy, come here," as he pulls Daniel up to his feet, his hands down to his sides and kisses the salt-taste of his own come into his mouth instead.

  


* * *

  


_The treaty signing goes without a hitch, aside from Daniel being still slightly high – which, it seems, is expected and possibly even pleases their hosts – and feeling a little exposed in only the dyed black loincloth they've kindly provided. At least it happens in the main tent with hot coal beds glowing either side of them, which keeps him warm enough that his team don't interrupt things. He can tell they're keeping a careful – and not entirely subtle – eye on him, but he's their Speaker, after all, and that seems to provide enough reason for them to watch him intently and hover protectively close._

_He doesn't remember much beyond them both settling in with him last night, but they were obviously careful enough that the designs decorating his skin are still clear and intact. They're apparently also impressive enough to earn Jack a compliment from the native Speaker; Daniel translates it with a smile and manages not to blush as he does, but he is extremely glad of the loincloth to hide his reaction to the heat in Jack's eyes._

_He's handed the signed treaty rolled in an ornate silken case. With it is a small trinium box lined in silk, the right size and shape to hold the knife – which the Speaker gives directly to Jack, the only time she acknowledges anyone but Daniel throughout the whole ceremony. Daniel isn't entirely sure that that's how it's supposed to go, or that he imagines the hint of knowledge, amusement and approval in her wise, dark eyes._

  


* * *

  


"Yes, all right, you can go home. But I don't want you driving, and you're not to be left alone for at least forty-eight hours," Janet says firmly, one eye still on his test results as she finishes bandaging Sam's arm.

"I'll take him," Jack says, and Daniel isn't sure if he intended the double entendre or if it's just the haze in his head from being _touched_ so goddamn much, but he hears it either way. Images of Jack _taking him_ flit into his head in sharp focus, not least the very clear image of Jack's head between his legs not two hours ago.

Janet nods. "All right. I'll let the General know you're all on medical leave for the next two days, and then I want you, Doctor Jackson, back in here for another full exam. And Colonel?" She fixes Jack with a look that says she might not be shouting, but she's still pissed and they'd do well not to forget it. "Next time a mission plan involves deliberate bodily harm and psychoactive substances, I would appreciate at least being informed."

Jack snaps off a salute, and Sam rushes them both out of the infirmary before Janet's wrath can catch up.

  


* * *

  


_They're treated to a lavish meal in the warmth of the main tent after the ceremony, after which Daniel is allowed to get dressed; that's an exercise in itself, and leaves him breathing hard and trembling when Sam first tries to tape gauze over his thigh._

_Lunch and the amount of water Jack's been making him drink seem to be helping the drug high wear off, and the sensitivity is slowly dialling down to something manageable, but then something like that will graze or press against one of the cuts and he's wished at least twice to have that gag back between his teeth. He's really not looking forward to the post-mission exam for this._

_Thankfully Sam's improvisational skills are still on a roll, so instead of tape and gauze she's carefully wrapped his thighs in compression bandages, and she's currently winding the remaining length of bandage around his chest and shoulders. He still feels very much like he's been peeled raw, but the more general sense of being wrapped up is better than wanting to scream at having tape stuck down and peeled off his skin._

_"All done," Sam says, rubbing his neck with her fingers. "Breathe out," she adds, an order and a tease._

_The breath he lets out is explosive with relief. Jack glances over from where he's reloading their packs at the other side of their tent. "How you doing?"_

_He makes sure to take in a breath, too, before answering. "A little… stiff," he admits, his voice slightly rough, and Jack chuckles._

_"I bet." A final zip and snap and the last pack is ready to go. "You gonna be okay for gating back, or do we need to take the edge off again?"_

_Daniel would swear he catches Teal'c smirking. He resists the urge to stick his tongue out and just rolls his eyes instead._

_"Come on." Jack gives him a proud smile and puts an arm lightly around his back, cupping his elbow. "Let's get you home."_

  


* * *

  


Daniel moans and spreads his legs wider, desperate and content in one perfect, heady mix. The mission was actually a complete success, he's sprawled out naked in the middle of Jack's bed, he doesn't have to put anything over his skin for at least two days; it's hard not to be content with that. He's aware of being loud, but damn it, he's never taking the luxury of that for granted ever again. It's not as if anyone within earshot minds, after all.

Sam props her head back up, elbow planted in the mattress and chin resting on her fist as she watches him with that playful smile. Her fingertip strokes back along the red, burning line across his left thigh, drawing another loud, happy moan from the very depths of his chest. Her touch is light enough to tease if they hadn't both already been _teasing_ him like this for hours: by now it qualifies as torture, far worse than whatever Janet obviously had in her head when it was her fingers on him.

"You'll get Jack back in here," she says, smiling wickedly. "Sounding like that." 

It's hard to see the downside to that, aside from the possibility that dinner is either burnt, late or takeout. If it gets him both of them touching him like this, he could go for any of those options. 

"Too late," Jack says, from the doorway. Sam looks over her shoulder with a smile.

"Takeout tonight, then?"

"What can I say, it was a tactical decision." Jack grins at him, crawling into the space left opposite Sam with a predatory glint in his eyes, in the way he moves until he's hovering over Daniel's chest. " _Someone_ was being too damned distracting."

Daniel grins back shamelessly. "Sorry," he says, with no remorse at all, and reaches for the boxers Jack only threw on under protest.

"You'd better not be," Jack retorts, leans into Daniel's hands to let him drag the waistband down, at least far enough that he can wrestle back out of them and kick them off the bed. He's a breath away from hard, flashing that impish grin, and Daniel can't imagine a more gorgeous vision bearing down on him… except for maybe the one stretched out already beside him, a naked golden siren with that same grin on her lips as she strokes that one fingertip back again across his thigh.

He whines, twisting his hips toward her – and then Jack's mouth is on his chest, _licking_ along the cut above his right nipple and pleasure explodes across his skin in a hot wave, escapes his mouth in a gasped cry. " _Oh_ – oh my god –"

"You're all ours now," Sam murmurs, curling her hand inside his thigh as Jack peppers kisses all over his chest. 

"I was always yours," he says honestly, breathlessly. " _Fuck,_ oh, Jack…" 

"That looks good." Sam gives him the most wicked, beautiful smile, still stroking him but watching Jack; Jack who's just unleashing a complete, all out assault on him with tongue and lips and teeth. Licking the cuts, sucking and biting his nipples, using a trail of kisses to move from one to another. "You like that?"

 _Like_ doesn't even come close. He's trembling, it feels so intense, an overload of sensation – it's indescribably intimate, Jack's mouth on those places where his skin is only barely closed, and incandescently hot. He feels like he's a step from being devoured alive. 

"Yeah," he manages to gasp out, not doing the feeling justice at all, followed swiftly by, "oh _god Sam-_ " when she puts her mouth to his thigh.

Jack laughs, the low, dark sound that makes him shiver with delight. " _All_ ours," he murmurs, and kisses that spot in the center of Daniel's chest where their blood is mixed together, where they're somehow even closer than they are right here and now. "What d'you want, Daniel? You did everything perfectly. You deserve anything you want."

It's hard to think beyond this – them, right here, entirely focused on him. It's hard to want more than this.

"Anything?" 

Sam nuzzles a kiss into the crease of his thigh. "Anything."

He laughs, around another moan as Jack's mouth starts to explore again. "Mmm – _oh_ – well, this is pretty good…"

Sam grins, flicks her tongue along his hip bone. "Anything else?"

The trouble with having such an amazing sex life with two such amazing people – the only trouble at all – is having so much to choose from. What does he _want_? He's so sensitive right now, even without a knife or a cane they could probably take him higher than they did last night. He could ask them to just keep torturing him, to tie his cock up even tighter than before and make him beg until he can't bear it, make him have to come through it. He could ask to be used like that, have Sam ride him and Jack fuck his mouth until he's high on only them. He could ask to be tied up, have Jack hold him down and play with him everywhere it hurts while Sam fucks him hard and long, way past what Jack could do and he can take…

And then they both look up at him, two expectant, loving smiles and two pairs of sparkling eyes, and he knows exactly what he wants.

Sam kisses her way up his body, slow and sensual; not focusing on the cuts but not avoiding them, just bestowing the same light open-mouthed kisses along each one as she does at every other sensitive spot on the path she knows so well. Jack joins in as she passes, both of them kissing and nibbling up his throat, both leaning in in perfect sync: two warm, wet, open mouths and playful tongues all for him, a messy three-way kiss that only ends when they're laughing too hard to keep going.

"Come here then, sweetheart," Sam says, still laughing, and slides her arms around him to pull him up against her. She's as soft and warm as ever, perfect soft breasts pressed to his chest and warm hands gentle as they settle on his back, even when she strokes at the matching cuts across the top of his ass, makes him shiver and whine all over again. He wraps his arms around her just the same, hums happily into her neck when the cuts on each forearm touch and rub against her skin. It's like he's somehow closer to her everywhere he's so much more sensitive; he can't get enough of it.

Jack presses a kiss to the back of his neck, one hand smoothing down the length of his spine. He hears the faint click of a bottle cap and then Jack's slick fingers are nudging between his cheeks, covered in enough lube to glide easily past any resistance and instantly be where he wants them.

"Open up for me," Jack murmurs, pressing so, so gently. "That's it, like that," as Daniel relaxes easily into the pressure and two fingers slip inside him. Jack works the other arm underneath him and around his chest for leverage, and Daniel doesn't even try to be quiet about how good it feels, Jack sinking those fingers all the way in and fitting tight up against the length of his back.

"Oh, _yeah_ , Jack…"

"Yeah?" Jack nuzzles behind his ear. "You want more already?"

He'd push back on those fingers in answer, but Sam chooses that moment to take his cock in hand, and he groans instead. "Yes, yes, please…"

"Anything you want." He can hear the gentle smile in Jack's voice, as gentle as the third finger that pushes in and opens him up even more. "Nearly ready for me, huh?"

He practically _lives_ ready for both of them, these days, and he wouldn't want it any other way. But having Jack take his time – not slow enough to tease, just enough to really let him feel it each leisurely step of the way – is beautiful enough to relax every inch of him, even without Sam's hand stroking just as slow and intent up and down the length of his cock. He's been hard on and off almost since they got through the door, just from being touched and teased by these same hands; it's taking nothing at all to get him back there, especially when they're holding him so tightly and his skin is still bright and raw with every sensation.

"Ready for both of you," he says, sounding more impatient than he means to. Sam giggles and nuzzles his jaw, nudging his head up to press her mouth to his as Jack's cock slides into him, thick and hot and deep _._

"Love you," Jack murmurs, kisses behind his ear. "You're goddamn perfect, you know." He's pressed up so close and still trying to get closer, and Daniel would happily open himself up and let Jack crawl inside if he could. The cuts on his ass and shoulders are hot lines of pleasure against the warmth of Jack's skin; when Jack's hand settles on his thigh, a broad palm right over the cut there, he whines into Sam's mouth and does his best to hold her even closer, too.

"Sam…" He kisses back down her neck, sucking at the heat of her pulse. Her hand feels so good, but he just needs _more_. "I want you, I want to be inside you."

He doesn't have to look, he can hear her smile. "Oh, I know." She gives him a playful squeeze, hard enough that he arches a little into it and Jack chuckles in his ear. Sam lets him go, then, and hooks her leg up over him instead, trapping Jack's hand against his thigh – and then she's sliding onto him, so wet and warm and tight in every slow, tantalising inch while Jack just holds him still, and it's everything he wants. He's wrapped up in them as close as he could ever be, so deep in Sam with Jack so deep inside him, strong legs and arms tangled around him, Jack's hot mouth on his neck and Sam's heartbeat against his lips. 

It's as if they're everywhere, as if they're all there is in the world; he can just close his eyes and _feel_ them, let his skin just sing happily with every inch of bright, brilliant sensation. It's floating in a different way, being held like this; so tight but so still, so calmly and intimately that there's nothing for him to do but _be_ held, be theirs.

"I love you." He feels Sam's breath stir his hair, her lips brush his temple. "We both do. We love you. You feel so good, we're not even going to move, we're just staying like this now." 

"Mmmm…" He nestles into the soft, familiar curve of her neck. "I don't want you to move. Stay, stay just like this…" It's as if he's connecting them together, as if he could just melt the rest of the way and they'd do the same, as if they could actually be one being, the three of them. "I love this, feels like you're everywhere, like you're inside me."

"Well, Jack is," Sam murmurs, teasing. Jack huffs a laugh, grinning.

"So deep, too. You always take me so well. You take both of us so well." Jack's breath is hot against the back of his shoulder, ghosts across the cut there and sends a wave of pleasure out with it. "You can sleep like this, can't you? I think we will. If we're lucky you'll wake up with me still inside you," a very gentle push of hips against his ass, drawing a quiet hum out of him. "Or you'll still be inside Sam, or both. Either way," Jack nips lightly at the nape of his neck, "we've got nowhere to be for two whole days, and since you're staying naked that whole time…"

He's so relaxed it's impossible not to shiver with delight at the reminder. "Mmm, that almost sounds like you have a plan."

Sam giggles under her breath. "Do we have a plan?"

Jack's chuckle is like an echo. "Oh, no plan. We're gonna improvise the whole thing." His grin is wide enough for Daniel to feel, pressed into the side of his neck. "It's so much better that way."

Daniel lets his mind wander to that small trinium box tucked away in the locked chest across the room, wrapped in a knotted strip of torn blue silk and an unwound length of paracord, and he really has to agree – that sounds just perfect.

  


  


* * *

  



End file.
